


And the Church Bells Ring

by x_Oath_x



Series: Series of Drabbles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bell Collars, Collars, Kidnapping, M/M, not really sure where to take this so take the warnings with a grain of salt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-16 00:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11817309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_Oath_x/pseuds/x_Oath_x
Summary: The last thing Harry remembers before blacking out in Little Hangleton's cemetery is the horrifying image of Lord Voldemort rising from the cauldron at the finale of the Triwizard Cup. When he awakens, he determines he's been captured and is now held hostage under Lord Voldemort's "care". Trapped and confused, Harry can only wonder just what the Darkest Lord in Great Britain's history could want from him.





	1. Without a Clue

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially a Kingdom Hearts xover kink fest complete with bell collars, leashes, bondage, and slavery (I even named the story "Captured Keys" initially). However, after the first chapter, my interest faded and I went 'lol' on whether I really wanted Kingdom Hearts involved at all. I still want to write a KH/Harry Potter xover, but not a kink fest version.
> 
> Though I suppose if I want to write a general HP kink fest, I can just write it and post it under this story. However, for now, this is abandoned/spontaneously updated whenever I get inspiration.

Harry was cold when he woke up.

Well, it wasn't really waking up. It was more of a violent jolt awake in the “holy shit my last memory was of Voldemort's newly re-formed face giving me the most wicked of smiles as he pointed Wormtail's wand at me what is going on”!sort of waking. Just as he suddenly found himself thinking about it, Harry tried to ignore the memory. If he didn't, he probably wouldn't get himself off the stone floor he had just realized he was lying on, but rather would agonize over the memory for however long it took before he could finally ignore it afterwards.

DING-A-LING.

DINGLE-DINGLING.

Getting up, he soon came to realize that he wasn't just cold. He was in pain in a lot of places he rather not feel it in. And pressure. There was some kind of pressure lying right above his collar bone – his neck. What was that? His mind flew through possibilities, but none seemed to quite fit the sensation that was encircling his neck. Harry didn't feel that he could simply just bring a hand up to feel it for himself. He was too busy trying to slowly push himself up into a standing position, but he felt that particular wish wasn't going to come true.

It was like the more he tried to struggle and push up, the more a, weirdly enough, much stronger and invisible force pushed back on his back. By the time he finally managed to push himself into a sitting position against the wall, he was wheezing and aching in several places and his ears were ringing. Harry didn't feel like moving much at all, but his curiosity wouldn't let him quit just like that.

He had to figure out what was around his neck. His curiosity would kill him otherwise if the chills that still wracked his body didn't.

Slowly, he raised his left hand to his neck. His rugged fingers met a stark contrast in what felt like lace and rather soft silk. Bloody hell.

Almost in disbelief, Harry traced his fingers over the object. The silk was definitely the main body of the object for it wrapped entirely around his neck. The lace only seemed to be in the front. It was daintily stitched down in what felt like a triangular shape towards his torso.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. He was becoming more and more unsure of what to make of this object the more he investigated what it was.

Hanging from the silk by a metal circle and lying peacefully on top of the lace, was a metal object. When his fingers pushed at it, a sound quite literally rang from it.

Now, Harry was _pretty_ sure of what it was now – and he was _pretty damn_ sure he wanted it off.

As soon as that thought came into mind, Harry's hand darted to the back of his neck. At the very back, he felt smooth metal – the clasp, probably. He tried to to fiddle with it to see if it would open, but he didn't feel anything, not a hook or even a crack. Magically sealed? Harry wasn't surprised. If he was indeed captured by Voldemort like he suspected, then it would make sense that he would use magic to keep Harry on lock down.

But why the fucking collar? And why does it have, what Harry distinctly guessed from the shape and the occasional sound it makes, a fucking **bell**.

If it was to humiliate Harry, it was working – and even without anyone bearing witness to this obscene discovery!

Groaning loudly, Harry let his hand slip to the ground and he lifted his head up so that he would see the ceiling. He felt his body relax involuntarily against what felt to be a cold stone wall. His mind, body, and emotions were all exhausted and weary. He was highly tempted to close his eyes and sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He didn't want to be caught unaware, especially in such a vulnerable position.

So, Harry continued to stare upwards at the ceiling, feeling a bit dumb as he continued to regard his situation. It was then that he noticed that his vision was blurry.

Sure, it was dark, but if he had his glasses he'd be able to make out some things. He must've lost them in the struggle at the graveyard. Or worse, Voldemort or his Death Eaters took pleasure in smashing them.

The young wizard's expression turned to one of confusion. If his glasses had indeed been smashed, why wasn't _he_ smashed along side them?

He didn't have much more time to ponder this, for right after thinking that, he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, raspy laughter, and the sound of a bell.


	2. I'm Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry listens to a song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, i did not expect this to get popular  
> i guess i have to make a plot now????
> 
> i mean, i got some ideas, but this is definitely one of those "not guaranteed completion" stories

The air was heavy. Every intake of air was a weight inside his lungs. Harry was choking and that horrid laughter continued. Raspy and wicked, the laughter was mocking him, finding his misery a joy.  
  
If it wasn’t for how cruel it sounded, Harry might have mistaken the voice for Draco Malfoy. But, realizing that it couldn't be Malfoy was worse. Much worse.

Harry squinted through the darkness, turning his head this way and that. Where was he? Where was th-

Red. He stopped breathing altogether the moment his eyes were trapped in a one-sided staring contest against Voldemort’s own red eyes. They were glowing. With what? Harry couldn't say. He couldn't think. Voldemort's eyes pierced through the shattered remains of Harry’s mental defenses.

He didn’t know how, but there was now a stone in chest and a boulder in his mind. Their combined weight made Harry want to drop to the stone floor like a broken puppet.

RING.

The sound of a bell bounced off the stone walls into his ears. Harry lifted his head once more to stare into Voldemort’s. Those red have seemed to have not moved from his face. Yet, something had changed because Harry didn't recall the bell.

Next to his face, a bell the Dark Lord was holding was illuminating the scales on the side of his face with a soft glow. With each sway, the ringing and glow got louder. Brighter. Ominous.

RING.

DING.

There was movement at the base of his neck, a chime sang in tune with the other bell. Together, they created a harmonious but somehow _wrong_ sound. Somewhere along the song, the Dark Lord’s raspy cackle was added. His scar was starting to pound. Something went passed over his eye and down his neck. He tried to reach for it, but groaned instead. What was happening?

His shaky breathing, the laughter, and the ringing bells were a wicked symphony. With each note, his head felt like it was being squeezed between two walls.

RING.

DING.

Harry’s vision spun.

**RING.**

**DING.**

_**RING.** _

And then he couldn’t see anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Follow [my blog](http://prinxe-puri.tumblr.com/) for random things. There you can ask questions, commission art from me, or you can buy me a coffee to keep the inspiration flowing and my internet on!

**Author's Note:**

> Now that I have posted this, I'm kind of curious of the different paths I could take. This chapter is not so "nsfw" that I'm completely restricted to making it a kink fest, but it's also not completely determined what the end point would be or the journey it could take.
> 
> Interesting.


End file.
